


Bravery in Cowardice

by Rasalahuge



Series: Concepts Series [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Ogre Wars, Pregnancy, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasalahuge/pseuds/Rasalahuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genderswap for the Concepts Series. Rumpelstiltskin goes to war and then flees to save her unborn son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bravery in Cowardice

**Author's Note:**

> The story is about a female Rumpelstiltskin, as the name is so unique and a key part of the original fairy tale I did not change her name. Milah on the other hand I had to gender swap merely so it was possible for them to have Bae, Michael was simply a male name similar to her own. When I wrote this I envisioned Hook also getting gender swapped, because that would be hysterical, but not Belle, because that would be equally hysterical.

It was true that they preferred to take the men first to serve. But young healthy men were few and far between in those days. Especially in the tiny fishing village just two hours walk from the large port town for the Duke mistrusted the sons of sailors and pirates, didn’t consider them to be loyal servants. So when there were too few men to continue to send to be slaughtered against the ogres they started to send for women. Only those pregnant or still nursing were allowed to refuse the call.

Rumpelstiltskin was neither of these and Michael, her husband, was the son of a sailor and a weaver and thus would not be called even if he wanted to go and fight. They had no children yet, had barely been married a full year, and so Rumpelstiltskin was among the first women to be called to the front.

She was frightened, she was too gentle a soul to relish the chance to fight especially when she was likely to see men and women both horrifically maimed and then killed. But she was also not a fool, she answered the call because there was no other choice and because she hoped that she might, finally, be rid of the stigma she carried from her own father who had been a coward.

She went to the front and in the chaos of training and a few minor skirmishes (how one ogre versus twenty men was a minor skirmish she could not say) she did not notice the days passing, she did not notice that her blood didn’t come and she did not notice that despite army rations her stomach was just starting to swell. She remained oblivious to it until the day she was set to watch a weapon, a seer.

The seer told her about her son, about how her actions would prevent his growing up in this world. She didn’t believe at first, but then she remembered. That night she counted, that night she pressed a hand against her stomach and fancied she could feel the life in there. That night she heard the stories from the other women of those early on in their pregnancy; early enough that they couldn’t prove it and were still forced to serve. Most, they said, didn’t carry their child to term. Most were killed from the simple fact that pregnancy slowed them down. Their children never got the chance to grow up. 

The next day Rumpelstiltskin’s platoon were ordered to join the battle, the description of what awaited them matched the description the seer had given her.

She thought to go to the healers, to beg them to let her go so her son could be born. But she knew the other women were right, the healers here were men and knew little of pregnancy and childbirth. Though she knew deep down in her soul the slight hardness and swell of her stomach was not enough proof for them, especially as she didn’t appear to be suffering from sickness or tiredness that others suffered from. If she wanted to save her son’s life then she would have to take matters into her own hands.

The only other soldiers that were allowed to leave the front, aside from pregnant women, were ones that were maimed and crippled beyond healing.

So Rumpelstiltskin did the bravest and most cowardly thing she had ever done in her life. She brought a sledgehammer down on her foot and got herself sent home.

It was a long, hard journey home. The healers saw to her foot just enough that it would heal and not turn gangrenous and without either horse or cart she had to walk all the way back upon it. A journey of a month for even someone fit and healthy. She quickly learned to cope with a staff but made barely a quarter of the distance a healthy person would in a day. And as her pregnancy progressed, blessedly easily, she had to travel slower and slower.

She reached home in her eighth month, her stomach swollen and obvious, leaning on an oak staff. Half the town came out to see her arrive home. She could see it in their eyes that they had heard what happened and were disgusted. Painful few had a look of pity in their eyes when they saw what it was that drove her to cripple herself. She ignored them all and just went home.

Michael was waiting for her, wearing a look of disgust on his face that melted the moment he saw her.

“Rumpel?” He asked staring at her stomach with something close to shock. Rumpelstiltskin smiled at him wearily and let herself drop onto the stool by her huge spinning wheel, her staff lowered to the floor and she settled both hands on the bump.

“I knew,” She confessed, “I knew but it was too early to prove and they were going to send us to battle. The stories of others like me were common, they all lost their babies. I couldn’t Michael; I just couldn’t lose our son,”

“Son?” Michael asked with a frown.

“I have it on good authority,” Rumpelstiltskin smiled faintly.

Two days later Rumpelstiltskin went into labour and gave birth to a baby boy that they called Baelfire. She carried her limp off with dignity and no matter how many people accused her of being a coward, for fleeing from the fight; no one could stop her smiling when her son laughed.


End file.
